


The Family Business

by InTheShadows



Series: oh god... there's more of you [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF John, Chaos is the Holmes Brothers Middle Name, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Established Relationship, Gen, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, The Other Holmes - Freeform, Tony is a flirt, clint is so done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 12:39:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11104746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InTheShadows/pseuds/InTheShadows
Summary: John sighs as he hears another explosion. Just another normal day in his life now. It's never boring at least. And then they get a client from America. It doesn't sound too interesting, but of course since Mycroft disapproves, they are going. Anything to annoy Mycroft. Turns out itisinteresting. But that has nothing to do with the actual case.(Introducing Tony and Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detectives. The only two in the world. And their Doctor.)





	The Family Business

**Author's Note:**

> Because this is the only third Holmes sibling I accept. (Season 4? What season 4? Never happened.)

Boom!

“I'm fine,” Tony calls.

John just pinches his nose in exasperation. In the kitchen, Sherlock doesn't even look up from his experiment. The smell of smoke slowly reaches the living room and John sighs. They are lucky Mrs Hudson isn't home right now. She would have a fit. Again. It's a miracle she hasn't thrown them out yet. Between Tony's inventions and Sherlock's experiments and the bloody hours they all keep, they are no one's idea of the ideal lodgers. It's a good thing she's so fond of them or they'd never make it.

Another, quieter, crash sounds throughout the flat.

“I'm still fine,” Tony reassures.

John suppresses the urge to roll his eyes.

“Really John, I promise. Not even bleeding this time.”

Funny how that was suppose to make John relax. As if there aren't a number of ways that man can injure himself without breaking skin. The idiot once broke his arm and insisted it was 'just a minor sprain, don't get your pants in a bunch John'. And he won't even mention the concussions. It'll only make him sigh more. At this point, it's a battle of who is going to kill himself first, doing something stupid.

It's enough to make a man question his sanity. John's has been questioned enough, since he's moved in. People see him as the average bloke – the ordinary one. He tends to fade into the background when compared to his flatmates. They wonder how on Earth he puts up with everything. Shouldn't he have run for the hills months ago? What is making him stick around? How can he survive?

But John is more than a little bit fond of them himself. Sure, to the outside world, it might look insane, but John wouldn't trade it for anything. The two brothers had fascinated him from the beginning and it's only gotten worse from there, Or better. It all depends on how you look at it. And from where John is looking? It's bloody brilliant.

Besides, he never claims to be entirely sane. People just assume he is.

“See, perfectly all right,” Tony says as he enters the room, hair disheveled, shirt torn and grease on his face. No blood, but there is a spectacular bruise forming on his cheek. He grins roguishly despite that.

Not that they don't drive him mad sometimes.

“Come here,” John tells him, sounding both weary and fond.

Tony grins even wider and promptly sets himself down on John's lap. John would like to say this is a result of Tony's brain being rattled. It's not. The man is just a natural flirt. Not that John is complaining, but it definitely adds another layer of interesting to his life. Especially when the people Tony flirts with don't approve – or their partners don't.

It's funny how the two brothers are so alike, yet so different at the same time. Neither are keen about eating or sleeping. Both are brilliant actors and can be extremely charming when they feel like it. Both have questionable social skills. And when an idea takes them, there is nothing anyone can do to stop them from pursuing it.

But while both are geniuses and have their deduction skills, their interests go in different directions. Sherlock's has always been more biologically focused, as well as chemistry based. Tony, on the other hand, has more of an interest in technology and engineering. Not that they don't branch out into whatever else they find useful or intriguing. Sherlock's study of the 243 kinds of ash are a prime example of that.

Sherlock is Mr Peacock himself, always strutting around in custom suits and form fitting shirts. That is, when he bothers to change out of his pajamas. Tony, while being perfectly able to do the same, favors jeans and vests more than anything else. He is also a huge flirt. His only real requirement is that they have to be human. Sherlock only flirts when he needs to for a case. John knows people call him heartless, but he's not. He's as emotional as Tony likes to showcase, he just hides it.

“Thinking happy thoughts cupcake?” Tony asks, breaking John's train of thought.

Tony is also the one who understands pop culture, “Of course darling,” he teases, “you're in them.”.

Tony preens.

Sherlock snorts from the kitchen, showing he is paying at least _some_ attention to his surroundings.

“Don't be jealous Lock,” Tony grins, “You're in them too. I was just the star of them.”

“You mean black hole?”

“No, no. That would be if he was thinking about Mycroft.”

They are both ridiculous.

“Yoo-hoo, boys, I'm back,” Mrs Hudson says from the doorway, “and you have a client.”

“Thank you ma'am,” the client tells her politely.

Mrs Hudson smiles at him. “Now don't let them scare you off. They can come on as a bit much, but they're good boys.”

“Mrs Hudson,” Tony gasps, hand over his heart, “How could you say such a thing. I am exactly the right amount.” He grins mischievously, still in John's lap. John knows from experience that he won't move. If the clients don't like it, that's their problem.

Sherlock stays in the kitchen for now, but he is splitting his attention. Not that anyone who doesn't know Sherlock would be able to tell.

“Hello,” John greets, “please, have a seat. I would offer you a cup of tea, but,” he shrugs.

The man smiles politely after taking a quick glance at their kitchen. “Thank you, but no. I'm fine.” He sits down on Sherlock's chair and folds his hands. “I have been assured that I can guarantee your complete discretion if you choose to take up the matter,” he begins.

Tony snorts. “Yes, heaven forbid the American public know there really _is_ a super secret spy organization operating right under their noses. I'm sure they would be _so_ shocked.”

The man doesn't react to the statement. John is mildly impressed. Most people show at least a minor reaction, be it shock, awe or annoyance. He's obviously well trained. Well, for a spy, he would have to be. Still, everyone has a tell.

“I am from the Strategic Hazard Intervention Espionage Logistics Directorate.”

“Sounds like a mouthful,” Tony comments.

“We are SHIELD for short,” he answers.

At this point, Sherlock wanders into the room, leaning against John's chair. He wonders what Sherlock saw that caught his interest. “And what would SHIELD want with us? Aren't the Americans smart enough to fix their own leaks?”

“We have had our best people on it, but the information is still being found. It's imperative that we stop this as soon as we can. We need better than what we currently have. We need the best. I have been told that was you.” All of this is said in the same steady voice. John gets the feeling this isn't a minor lackey that is asking them for help.

“Well Agent,” Tony begins.

“Coulson,” the Agent fills in his name for them.

“Agent,” Tony ignores, “I do not see how this could possibly-”

“Ah, Agent Coulson,” Mycroft interrupts, stepping into the room, “what a surprise to see you here.”

And so the plot thickens.

“Mr Holmes,” Agent Coulson nods, “I was just in the process of asking your brothers for help.”

“So I see. I find this rather interesting, seeing as how I already told you they would not be interested. A mere double agent? A bit dull for them after all.”

“One never knows what will catch their interest.”

“I believe I have a rather good idea, seeing as though I am their brother.”

John resists the urge to groan. This is not the kind of interesting he wants. Either Mycroft wants them to take the case and is using reverse psychology or he doesn't and is going about it in the worse way possible.

He watches as Sherlock and Tony trade a look before Tony answers, “I don't know My, it's been awhile since we had a good case. This might be more interesting than you think. I've always wanted to play James Bond,” he smiles innocently.

And it appears to be the latter option. What in the world was Mycroft thinking? Doesn't he know how his brothers work by now? It's an almost automatic response to do the opposite of what he wants. Forget Christmas dinners, every day is a disaster with these three. How their parents ever made it...

“So instead of being knighted, you are aiming a medal of honor. Very public spirit of you, brother dear.”

It doesn't work.

“Trying to use juvenile threats to stop me? How very _clever_ of you.”

“Mummy would be so disappointed.”

“As if _I_ am the problem child.”

“She does so hate to have you out of country.”

“Which is why we broke her heart when we went to France last month?”

“But this is all the way across the ocean.”

“All the better to get away from you, brother dear.”

“Unfortunately Ant, we're too late. He's spread his web already,” Sherlock laments.

“It's a good thing we're so good at avoiding it then, isn't it Lock?”

John does sigh this time. Looks like they're going to America.

-xxx-

John knew Americans had a flare for dramatics, but this is ridiculous. He is currently standing on a flying ship. A  _ flying ship.  _ Helicarrier technically, but really? They had to get here by plane. Or maybe it's a heliflier. You never know. He wouldn't put it past them at this point.

The Director of this organization is a man dressed in all black –  _ trench coat  _ included – with a honest to god eye patch. No wonder he sends Agent Coulson to represent them. He would seriously question anyone showing up at his door looking like  _ that _ .

And then, as if this isn't enough, they are introduced to their team of  _ superheroes _ . John thought those only existed in comic books. But nope, lately there has been a surge of superheroes. And so SHIELD has their own team – the Avengers. Catchy enough at least.

“Team,” Director Fury says, “these are Sherlock Holmes, Tony Holmes and John Watson. They are here to see how we work,” he gives them the eye, “So do _try_ and pretend we are all adults here, shall we?”

“Of course Sir, aren't we always?”

Director Fury sighs. “No Barton, you aren't. This is Agent Clint Barton aka Hawkeye, Agent Natasha Romanoff aka Black Widow, Steve Rogers aka Captain America, Bruce Banner aka the Hulk and Prince Thor,” he finishes.

Tony grins. “Dr Banner, I've read all your works. I'm a fan,” he shakes the scientists hand.

“Thanks you,” the man looks startled.

“I'm a big fan of radiation,” Tony continues.

“And the way you turn into your alter ego is fascinating,” Sherlock adds.

Dr Banner takes a moment to blink at the two men. “Thank you?” he repeats.

He notices Captain Rogers staring at Tony. He walks over. “Captain,” he greets, “is there a problem?”

He startles. “Sorry, it's just Mr Holmes, err Tony, reminds me of someone I use to know.”

“Isn't everyone you know dead?” Tony asks, pausing in his conversation with Banner.

John pinches his nose. Dear god, those two.

But instead of taking offense, Rogers snorts. “He appears to have the same social skills as well.”

“Might I ask who?”

“Howard Stark,” he answers.

“Stark Industries right?”

“Yes. His son Edward runs it now.”

“What's the similarities?”

“Mainly his charisma. The way he gestures and talks. And he has a remarkable physical semblance.”

Tony comes over and wraps his arms around John. “Sorry, my Father is Charles Holmes. I'm named after him. Charles Fabian Anthony Holmes.”

“That's... nice,” Rogers offers.

Tony shrugs. “Our parent have a unique way of naming their children,” he nods to Sherlock, “William Sherlock Scott Holmes. Our older brother is Albert Silas Mycroft Holmes.”

Agent Barton chokes as he walks over. “ _You're_ related to Mycroft Holmes?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Unfortunately.”

“Oh god,” he looks faint, “I didn't know there was _more_ of you.”

“My condolences,” Tony tells him seriously, “If it makes you feel better, we're the better of the three.”

“It really doesn't,” he admits.

Tony shrugs. “Your loss then. Come on Lock, let's do some inspecting,” he grins. The two of them walk off, grins on their faces as they follow another agent. That'll last for about a minute or two. Then the real chaos will begin. Just as long as they don't bring the ship down. John doesn't fancy a swim right now.

Captain Rogers follows after them. Nor is _that_ going to end well. He can already tell.

“You live with _both_ of them?” Agent Barton asks.

“Yup.”

“How is the building still standing?”

“I have no idea honestly. Eyeballs in the microwave, heads in the refrigerator, robots cleaning the floor, books scattered everywhere, explosions from who knows what,” he shakes his head, “We're lucky we haven't been kick out by now. Or killed by one of their stunts.”

“Sounds like a nightmare. Although you sound rather fond, despite it all.”

“Well, they are my partners, I would hope so.”

“Partners? Partners as in crime or partners as in...?”

“They're my boyfriends,” John clarifies, “Problem?”

“Boy...boyfriends?!?” the question comes out in a squeak, “as in... both... you date both of them?!”

“That is generally the definition of it, yes.”

“Oh my god,” Barton says feebly.

“You know most people, when they realize imagine some incestuous orgy or some such. I'm glad you aren't like them,” John tells him innocently.

“Yeah, no,” he denies, “but how does that work?”

“Both have similar tastes when it comes to partners. It just so happens that I have an important trait for both of them.”

“What's that?”

“Acceptance,” he answers simply, “So many people don't have the patience or the ability to stand them. Each have their quirks and both can drive you insane. But both are absolutely brilliant and I wouldn't trade them for anything.”

“You sound whipped, you know that right?”

“I have no shame in being in love with my partners.”

Barton is silent for a moment before he says, “But no, really, how does that work?”

“Are you seriously asking about my sex life?”

He shrugs.

“Going through a dry spell are you?” he asks dryly.

Barton grins. “Who? Me? I'm the ladies man.”

“Do the ladies know that?”

Before John can answer, Tony joins them. He leans against John, attempting to hide behind him. “What's wrong?” he asks right away.

“Rogers won't leave me alone,” he growls, “I've told him to piss off at least ten times, announced five _extremely_ personal things and he still keeps trying to talk to me. He won't let the Stark thing go. Next step is to punch the bastard.”

“Sucks to be you man,” Barton tells him, “Steve is stubborn as hell. None of us are good at stopping him once he has an idea in his head. But I would recommend using something else besides your hand to punch him. You'll hurt yourself more than him”

“Thanks for the tip Legolas. John can I borrow your gun?”

“One, why do you think I brought it? And two Legolas?”

“Archer, you can tell by his callouses and of course you brought your gun. You always do. Plus I can feel it.”

“No you cannot have it. God knows you would probably shoot him instead of pistol-whipping him.”

Tony looks as if he is considering it.

“ _ No _ ,” John tells him firmly, “I will take care of him.”

“My hero,” Tony flutters his eyelashes.

John snorts.

“Tony, there you are,” Rogers says.

Tony tenses behind John. Normally Tony is loud and bold and obnoxious. This is not a man who needs others to fight his battles for him. So for him to come to John with this? Something is seriously wrong with this situation. He feels his anger rise. No one messes with  _ his  _ partners. “Can I help you Captain?” he asks calmly.

“Oh, I was just having a conversation with Tony before he wandered off.”

“No, I was telling you to _piss off_ before I left,” Tony corrects.

“Oh, I just wanted to ask-”

“Captain Rogers,” John draws himself up, “I do not appreciate you harassing my partner like this. He has made it clear that he does not want to talk to you. Leave.”

“But-”

“No,” he takes a step forward and brings his army training to the surface, “He has made his feelings clear. I have made my feelings clear. If you cannot accept this, I will be forced to take action against you.”

“I wouldn't test that Rogers,” Tony crows, “Our John is a badarse.”

“Even against a super soldier? No offense man,” Clint asks.

“The bigger they are,” Tony starts.

“The harder John brings them down,” Sherlock finishes, walking into the room. He joins his brother behind John. “Do reconsider your next move. Or not, it is always a joy to see John in action.”

Rogers looks a mixed of startled and offended. “There's no need for violence. I was just trying to have a conversation.”

“And I'm ending it. You do not have the right to harass anyone, hero or no.”

“I wasn't harassing him,” Rogers tells him, sounding frustrated. “And who are you to decide who he can and cannot talk to?”

John takes a deep breath and prays for patience.

“Umm Steve? You might want to shut up now? That's his boyfriend you are talking to,” Clint informs the soldier.

“Boyfriend? That still doesn't give him the right to control-”

Alright then. John has had enough of this twat. He grabs his gun from his jeans and pistol-whips the man himself right in the jaw. There is a resounding _crack_ that echoes through the room. Rogers goes down and John smiles in satisfaction. Super soldier or no, he's still human. And John is a doctor. He knows how to take down a man when he needs to.

“What is going on in here?” Director Fury stalks in.

“Wow, someone looks furious,” Tony jokes.

Sherlock doesn't say anything because he is too busy snogging the life out of John. Yup, he saw that coming. The best way to turn Sherlock on was to bring the soldier out. Someone has a rather large military kink.

“Steve managed to harass Holmes here, who came to Watson for help. After Steve kept ignoring their warning to bug off, Watson pistol-whipped him.”

“Rogers you dumb ass,” Fury sighs, “you know better than to mess with an angry soldier. Weren't you in the Army yourself? Or was that all just a dream to you?”

Rogers rubs his jaw, but doesn't say anything.

John walks over. “Let me see,” he commands. Wonder of wonders, Rogers listens this time. He examines his jaw. “It's broken,” he announces, “you should have someone look at that to make sure it doesn't heal wrong.”

“The hell?” Barton asks.

“Oh, did we not properly introduce our partner?” Tony asks gleefully. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is Captain John Watson, formerly of the 5th Northumberland Fusiliers, M.D.”

“I didn't think Army doctors knew how to fight,” Barton comments.

“Ours does,” Tony says cheerfully.

“He can break every bone in your body while naming them,” Sherlock smirks proudly.

“And he's a crack shot.”

“Honorably discharged after he saved his patrol when they were ambushed.”

“A _very_ decorated soldier.”

Both brothers are wrapped around him now. John rolls his eyes at them. “Yes, you possessive gits, you like when I get violent. I know. But _not_ here.”

“It's a good thing we are done here then, isn't it?”

Fury glares at them. “You've figured it out then?”

“Matthew York,” Tony answers.

“You're sure?”

“Of course we are,” he answers, offended, “have you seen his tie?”

“Then get the hell off my helicarrier!”

“Gladly. We have a Doctor to do.”

“Yes we do,” Sherlock purrs.

“Barton, get them out of here,” the Director barks.

“Yes Sir,” he says, “This way, I'll fly you back.”

John lets out a relieved sigh when they are on the plane and in the air. He doesn't think they will be getting an invitation to visit anytime soon.

“That was fun,” Barton comments happily.

“That's your idea of fun?” John asks.

Barton shrugs. “That was nothing compared to some of the stuff that goes down. Last week we fought a giant fudge monster. One time there was an infestation of honest to god pixies. It's a weird job.”

John snorts. “Sounds like it.”

“...You weren't just a doctor, were you?”

“What makes you think I wasn't?”

“A crack shot? No one is going to be a mere doctor with a crack shot. Especially one who can take down a super soldier with one blow.”

John smirks at him, but doesn't say anything else.

“Knew it,” he mutters, then, “Did you really figure the leak out by looking at his tie?”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Tony answers.

“I identified him by his shoe laces.”

Barton snorts and then laughs. “Man, you sure you don't want to stick around after all? The job would be a lot more fun with you lot here.”

“You'd be out your Captain in a week,” Sherlock tells him.

“Shame that. How about your numbers?”

“Watch it Barton, I am perfectly happy with my partner.”

“So am I.”

“Is this you agreeing we're the better of the three then?”

“You gonna text me?”

“Sure.”

“Definitely.”

Tony grins in victory. “There you go then.”

“What?”

“Our numbers are programmed in your phone.”

“Techno nerd,” Barton grumbles.

“Agent Barton,” Sherlock interrupts.

“Yeah?”

“You might want to have a trusted colleague take a hard look at your system. It appears to be infected.”

“Infected? By what?”

“A myth long thought dead. You might have to protect your Captain in the future from it. I imagine they aren't too happy with him.”

“A myth... you don't mean...”

“The file is on your phone, accessible only to you.”

Barton nods. “I'll look into it.”

“Carefully,” Sherlock warns.

“Carefully,” Barton repeats, “thanks man. Thought the job was getting too boring.”

“The Holmes brothers are good at making sure you never are,” John tells him.

“You said it, not me.”

-xxx-

The first thing Tony does when he gets back home is go straight to St Bart's. He comes back looking slightly pale. He collapses on the couch, head in John's lap.

“Should I be worried?” he asks the other man.

“The bastard was right.”

“What?”

“That bastard, Rogers. I am biologically a Stark.”

John runs a hand soothingly through his hair. “Just had to check, didn't you?”

“I couldn't stand the thought that he might actually know what he was talking about. But he was. The arse was right. I am Howard Stark's son, not Father's.”

“Shall I assume you aren't happy about this?” John asks dryly.

“What was your first clue?”

Sherlock comes and sits down with them, placing his brother's feet over his lap. “As if I care about that. You're a much better brother than Mycroft is. You know how to have fun.”

“Pastry basket knew too,” Tony grumbles.

“He did?” John asks, “How did you know?”

“Why else would he want to keep me from America – and SHIELD more specifically? Howard was a founding member. There was a chance someone would guess. And someone did. The bastard who runs around in a flag instead of real clothes.”

John laughs. “I don't quite think that's what their flag looks like.”

“Same difference.”

“Besides John,” Sherlock adds, “Mycroft is the British Government. He knows everything.”

“How badly are you going to prank him for this one?” John asks curiously.

Sherlock and Tony grin at him impishly.

“ That's what I thought. I want pictures,” is the only thing he tells them.

-xxx-

“How did you _really_ figure out it was York?”

“Really John, I hacked his computer.” 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Can you tell I still have some feels leftover from CA:CW? I didn't plan that... it just kind of happened. Blame John. No seriously _blame John_. He did it, not me. I wasn't planning on actually writing that part. I was just imagining it...  
>  Also, this didn't get put into the fic and has no real relevance, but headcanon for this fic says Tony is pansexual and Sherlock is demisexual. Do with that as you will.


End file.
